Moments
by likecominghome
Summary: Over the course of 20 years, Stiles and Lydia share many memorable moments.


**5**

She loved Saturdays; they was the day she got to wake up early, when the sun was just making its first appearance on the horizon, and sit on the couch scooping large spoonful after spoonful of sugary cereal into her mouth as she watched the morning cartoons.

Except today was different. Just as she settled back into the large leather couch, cereal bowl in hand and eager to catch up on some _Tom and Jerry_, her mother entered the room in a frantic state and switched off the television.

She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "It's Saturday."

"I know, sweetie," her mother sighed, "But the new neighbors are moving in this morning and her father and I promised we'd help out. Can you be a good girl and go change and come help?"

Groaning, she rose from the couch and put away her empty cereal bowl before going to her room to pull on shorts and a t-shirt. A few minutes later, she emerged through the front door of the house and stood on her tip toes in search of her parents. She found them chatting easily with a man and woman beside the moving van next door.

Suddenly overcome with shyness, she stood by the door, waiting for her parents to call her over. Before they could however, a flying object came from her left, bouncing off her head before rolling into the front lawn, where it presented itself to be a soccer ball.

She glared at the black and white orb that dared to invade her personal space and picked it up as she searched for the person to whom it belonged and noticed a boy about her age come running forward. He had short dark hair and the most dazzling brown eyes she'd ever seen and she was left momentarily breathless when he stretched his lips into a smile.

"Hiya," he greeted she, giving she a friendly wave. "My name's Stiles. I just moved in next door. Sorry I hit you with my ball."

Out of politeness, she should have immediately forgiven him and introduced herself, but she was still too put off by his unintended intrusion of her space to be forgiving, so she shoved the ball into his arms and turned on her heel, huffing as she stormed back into her house because she couldn't believe she gave up her Saturday morning cartoons for this.

But that night, as she tried to fall asleep, all she can think about is dazzling chocolate eyes.

**6**

She sighed in frustration. The incessant bouncing of Stiles's soccer ball was distracting her from her reading. Rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she sighed heavily as she lowered her book to glare at him.

"Do you have to do that right here?" she asked in her sweetest voice, trying to sound less irritated than she felt.

He stopped bouncing the ball for a moment, holding it at his hip with his elbow as he came to stand in front of her, peering over the top of her book.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked curiously.

"Reading," she replied, turning her attention back to her book, "You should try it some time."

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated the offer before shaking his head. "Or you could come play with me."

She looked up from her book, completely ready to reject his request, but find herself unable to speak when their gazes meet. Once again, his dazzling eyes left her breathless and she can't bring herself to refuse.

So for the first time since she'd met a year before, she put down her book and did something Stiles wanted to do.

**7**

She lay under the tree in her backyard, staring up at the stars. Under normal circumstances, her parents probably wouldn't let her have a sleepover with a boy. But Stiles wasn't a normal boy.

Stiles was…well, Stiles. They was friends, something she didn't think was possible because they was so different.

But somehow it worked.

They pointed up at various constellations in the sky, making up names for the shapes they found and giggling when they sounded silly.

She turned her head to the side, watching as he scrunched his face in concentration and searched for a new group of stars.

"Stiles?" she asked quietly, because something had been bothering her. That morning she had watched the teenage girl from across the street blush and giggle after her lips touched a boy's and she wasn't sure why. Maybe Stiles knew the answer. He seemed to know a lot about the real world.

He turned just his head to face her, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Why do boys and girls touch lips?"

He shrugged, turning on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. "I don't know. Do you wanna try it?"

Before she could respond, he leaned towards her, squeezing his eyes shut and puckering out his lips. She watched in horror as his mouth neared and rolled away before his lips could touch hers, running into the house and leaving him to fall flat on his stomach in confusion.

There was no way she would ever want to kiss Stiles.

**8**

This was her least favorite part of the day. School was usually where she felt the most comfortable, but not here. She was fine during class, raising her hand and answering questions, but out here, she was completely out of her element.

So she sit at her lunch table alone, quietly eating her peanut butter sandwich as she watch the other kids laugh with their friends, wishing she had the guts to walk up and join them. Across the cafeteria, she spotted Stiles, who sat surrounded by a group of kids, chatting happily.

She made eye contact across the room and she lifted a hand nervously in a wave. He grinned and beckoned for her to come join him, but she shrugged and shook her head because she don't know any of his friends and she didn't want to intrude.

He looked momentarily disappointed, but soon dove back into the conversation as she finished off the last of her sandwich. Just as she was about to open her pudding cup, she felt a presence join her at the table.

Looking up, she raised her eyebrows in surprise when she saw Stiles settle himself across from her and take a large bite out of the burger he'd bought in the lunch line.

"What are you doing?" she asked, completely bewildered.

"Eating lunch with you," he replied as though it was the most obvious response in the world.

She blinked, confused. "But what about your friends?"

He laughed and took another bite of his burger. "You are my friend."

**9**

She wasn't one to get mad. In general, she thinks she has a pretty good handle on her emotions.

But Harmony's high pitched voice is causing her to shiver in revulsion. She tossed a blonde curl over her shoulder as she stared at Lydia smugly.

"You're such a freak," she said, which inexplicably caused her little friends to start giggling.

Lydia rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her book, hoping this girl would just leave her in peace for the rest of recess, unsure of what she'd done to upset her in the first place. Unfortunately, she found no solitude, as a shadow was cast over her reading material and she looked up to find that Stiles has joined the conversation. Harmony's demeanor immediately switched from haughty to delicate and she smiled sweetly at the brunette boy, twisting a curl around her finger.

"Hi, Stiles," she cooed, batting her eyelashes. "Are you coming to my birthday party this weekend?"

For some reason she couldn't quite comprehend, Stiles had every girl at the school wrapped around his finger. They giggled when he smiled at them, batting their eyelashes and hoping he'd come over to start a conversation. It was confusing, to say the least.

Stiles looked from Harmony to Lydia, back to Harmony. "Is Lydia coming?"

Harmony looked absolutely disgusted at the thought. "She's not invited."

Stiles shrugged and took a seat beside Lydia on the bench. "Then I guess I'm not either."

Harmony gaped at the two of them for a moment before storming away, her friends following closely at her heels.

Laughing, Lydia twisted her body towards Stiles. "You didn't have to do that."

"Of course, I did," he replied, placing an arm around the back of the bench, his hand coming down to pat her on the shoulder, "You and I, we're a package deal."

**10**

Her stomach was coiled into knots and she hated the feeling. She don't know why she felt this way. Stiles' talked to plenty of girls, so him talking to Molly shouldn't be any different.

But it is different. It's different because she'd never seen him blush and look at the ground and giggle so much when he's talking to a girl. He was usually so calm and collected, but around Molly it's almost as if he turns into someone else entirely.

He's awkward and uncomfortable and unsure of what to say, though Molly doesn't seem to mind. She reached out and took Stiles's hand, intertwining their fingers as they walk home together.

Lydia watched from behind, following them silently from a distance, clenching her hands into fists and wondering what it meant that she wished she could be the only one to make him blush.

**11**

It was strange, the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't as though she'd ever been some sort of expert when it came to boys, but with Jake it was as though she lost all ability to be a functioning human being.

She couldn't form proper words and she found herself just nodding and smiling to everything he said because she was too afraid of speaking and ruining the moment, or finding out that it was all just a dream. She blushed profusely when he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek and held in a squeal as he walked away, her heart pounding and her stomach filled with butterflies.

She noticed everything about his gait and the way he flipped his hair off his forehead and crinkled his eyes when he laughed, but she failed to notice the dark haired boy standing nearby, watching her with a look of extreme jealousy on his face.

**12**

She watched in awe as he moved his hips and punched his arms to the beat, landing in a pose with his arms crossed over his chest and shooting her a cocky smirk as though he'd just done the greatest dance move of all time. Laughing, she clapped loudly and cheered.

"You're a good dancer, Stiles," she smiled. He wasn't the best she'd ever seen, but he had some rhythm, unlike her.

"You're not so bad yourself," he replied, more out of politeness than actual honesty.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't have to say that. You know I'm an awful dancer."

He laughed and shrugged, shoving his hands in his jean pockets, shifting from foot to foot as a slow song came on.

"Is that why you're not out there right now?" he asked, nodding towards the dance floor, where the rest of their classmates was currently engaged in arm's length slow dances under the watchful eyes of the teachers and chaperones.

"That," she paused, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes, "And nobody's asked me to dance."

"Well," he smiled widely, holding out a hand, "We'll have to change that won't we? Come on. Dance with me."

She couldn't protest because she'd never been able to resist that sparkle in his eyes, so she slipped her hand into his and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor, sighing as she melted comfortably into his body, resting her head on his shoulder. He hummed the tune of the song softly into her ear as she swayed and all she could think was that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

**13**

"I can't believe you talked me into this," she sighed as she settled back onto the couch, crossing her legs beneath her, and clutching the bowl of popcorn to her chest. "You know I think horror movies are terrifying."

"Come on," he nudged her with his shoulder as he plopped down next to her, one hand reaching into her popcorn bowl to grab a handful. "Give it a chance. You might actually like it."

"We'll see," she replied in a wary whisper.

Still, despite her initial unease at the idea, she soon found herself enthralled by the action and suspense and she was perched on the edge of the couch as she watched the main character creep slowly towards a slightly ajar door.

"Don't go in there," she whispered as the man on the screen pushed open the door.

Just as she suspected, his entrance into the room was followed by a blood curdling scream as he was dragged into the darkness. She let out a shriek, grabbing Stiles's hand, which lay on the couch just beside the now empty bowl of popcorn. He looked down at their connected hands in confusion, a breathy laugh escaping his lips, but intertwined their fingers nonetheless and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry," he said, nodding once before looking back at the movie, "I'm right here."

She took comfort in that fact and returned her attention to the screen, neither of them noticing that they continued to hold hands until the ending credits appeared.

**14**

"See that one?" he pointed up towards a line of stars, "That one's the Big Dipper."

She was pretty sure he was wrong, but she didn't say anything because he seemed so proud of himself. It had been much too long since they'd done this: lay in the backyard and stared up at the sky. She liked the fact that they could instantly return to being children.

Turning to her side, she propped herself up on her elbow and waited for him to mimic her position, which he did slowly, his ever growing body stretched out beside her.

"Do you remember that one time we were lying out here and I asked you what kissing was?" she laughed when he turned to face her, thinking back to when she still thought Stiles was a little boy with cooties and that kissing was weird.

"Yeah," he said, tugging a hand through his curls, his mouth widening into a smile, "And you ran when I tried to show you."

"I was just scared," she sighed.

Nodding, he chewed on his bottom lip and stared at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth. "So, if I was to kiss you now, you wouldn't run?"

She blushed in the darkness and leaned a little closer, lessening the gap between the two of them and staring straight into his eyes because it was exactly what she was hoping he would say. "I guess you'll have to try it and find out."

Lifting the corners of his lips, he leaned in and kissed her softly and she smiled as she returned the pressure and when she pulled away, she was dizzy and giddy, wondering how even in the dead of night, two eyes could shine so bright.

**15**

This was where she thought best: when she was sitting on her bed and writing in her journal. After everything that had happened recently, she really needed some time to clear her head.

It wasn't anything bad, really. In fact, it was all rather wonderful. When she first met Stiles, that fateful day ten years before, she never in a million years would have predicted that they would end up dating or that she would be so utterly happy all the time.

Smiling to herself, she scribbled across the worn pages, constructing a loose poem off the top of her head. Lately, all she seemed to be able to do was write love poems. Not that she minded; they were her favorite kind.

The door to her bedroom opened and she smiled instantly when Stiles entered and lifted a knee to crawl onto the bed beside her, a thick curl falling across his forehead.

"Hey," she greeted him softly as he sat to her right, leaning back against her headboard and stretching out his legs beside hers.

Lifting one side of his mouth into a smile, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, her customary greeting now that they were a couple, grinning widely as he pulled away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, glancing down at the notebook she was balancing on her bent knees.

"Just scribbling," she shrugged, moving one hand to cover the pages so he couldn't see.

He nodded, reaching down to lace their fingers together atop the flower embroidered quilt. "I'm sure it's great."

"You think?" she smiled. He'd never actually read anything she'd written, but he was always supportive nonetheless. He wrote songs himself, for the band in which he was the drummer, so he appreciated art in any form. "I'm not sure about some of the phrasing."

He tried to peek over her shoulder and she pressed her hand harder against the pages on instinct, pressing her lips together as well to hold in laughter and shaking her head at him.

"Am I ever going to get to see?" he practically begged, jutting out his bottom lip and widening his eyes because he knew she had a weakness for his puppy dog pout.

She smiled softly as she closed the book and held it close to her chest. "Maybe someday."

**16**

She couldn't believe what she was about to do. But then, she'd always had a weakness for Stiles's eyes. One look into those sparkling chocolate orbs and she was a goner.

So when he came up to her flustered and freaked out and begged her to sing with him, she was at a loss to do anything but agree. It wasn't as though her singing voice was spectacular, but her stage fright was what was really holding she back. It didn't matter that it was just karaoke. Singing in front of anybody was terrifying.

She stared wide eyed at the closed curtain, her heart pounding in her chest and her breathing nearly erratic as she tried to convince herself that she could, in fact, perform live to a room full of people.

A wide palm on her back caused her breathing to slow just slightly and she stretched her lips into what she hoped was a convincing smile as she stared up at Stiles, who looked happy to have a partner.

"You can do this," he assured her, pulling her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her naturally. She melted into his arms, allowing their warmth to comfort her and prayed that he was right.

He kissed the top of her head as he pulled away, cupping her cheeks between his palms. "I believe in you, alright? You can do this."

She wanted to believe him, she really did, but the rapid pace of her heart beat was telling her otherwise.

"Lydia."

She looked at him once more as the curtains began to pull open, the confidence in his eyes slowly calming she down.

"I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Strangely enough, those words were the ones that kept her from running off the stage in fear.

**17**

"Stiles?" she called out as she walked through his front door.

She heard his voice echo from the kitchen and wove her way through his house to find him standing behind the granite counter, covered in flour, just like a majority of the room.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, shaking her head as she surveyed the mess.

"I was hungry, so I thought I'd make pancakes," he explained as though it was the world's most obvious response.

Pressing her lips together, she smiled and nodded, finding his hopelessness in culinary activities absolutely adorable. "Would you like some help?"

He sighed in relief, moving over to allow her to take her place beside him. She worked inefficiently, getting distracted and tossing handfuls of flour at each other as she attempted to make the batter. Once the batter was made and the appropriate amount of chocolate chips were added, she turned to him and rolled her eyes.

"You're hopeless, she know that?" she laughed as she poured the first spoonful of batter onto the heated griddle.

"You're the best," he grinned, leaning down to capture her lips with his for a sweet kiss.

She smiled, pecking him once more before continuing to space out the circles of batter. "You're lucky I love you."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her close to his chest and resting his chin atop her head as they waited for the pancakes to cook.

"Yeah, I am."

**18**

"It's freezing," she chattered, her teeth shaking as she scooted closer to the fireplace.

Their plans for a romantic night had quickly taken a disastrous turn.

For her anniversary, Stiles had planned a fantastic date at his friend's parent's beach house, complete with a moonlight picnic and some fireside cuddling. Unfortunately, the weather was refusing to cooperate. They'd arrived at the cabin in the midst of a torrential rainstorm to find the power out and the generators broken.

They were able to salvage some of their food and managed to get the fireplace going, and thus they found themselves huddled together for warmth as they waited for the storm to pass.

"I'm so sorry about this, babe," he said.

She turned from her place in his arms, tilting her chin to kiss his jaw softly before sinking back into his chest and relishing in the warmth.

"It's alright," she assured him softly, "I'm just glad we're together."

His arms tightened around her, pulling her further back into his chest and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I love you, you know," he whispered against her ear.

"I know," she sighed, closing her eyes. She shifted slightly, her palm coming to rest on the floor and touching something smooth and plastic.

Furrowing her brow in confusion, she closed her fingers around a small square package and held it up to her front, turning to look at her boyfriend.

Stiles's eyes widened in horror and his lips parted as he tried to explain.

"That's not what you think it is," he finally spat out.

"It's not?" she laughed, "It looks like a condom to me."

"That's because that's what it is," he sighed, failing miserably at coming up with a more eloquent explanation. "I wasn't expecting anything."

She saw the opportunity to tease him even further, but decided he'd suffered enough. Besides, he'd given her an opening to speak about something that had been on her mind for a few months. Turning, she sat cross legged between his bent knees, fiddling with the silver packet in her hands.

"I was…" she whispered cautiously, eyeing his reaction closely.

His gaze shot up to meet hers and his lips parted but he didn't speak, unsure as to whether or not she was kidding.

"We've been dating for three years," she said, shrugging and laughing to relieve some of the tension of the situation, "It was bound to happen eventually. I just wasn't really sure how to bring it up."

Blinking, he glanced down at her hands before looking her in the eyes. "Are you sure?"

Biting down on her bottom lip, she nodded, keeping his gaze. "I'm sure."

His lips lifted into a soft smile and he leaned forward to kiss her, one hand rising to cup her cheek as the other slowly reached out to tug on the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

"You're beautiful," he whispered and as he removed the remainder of her clothes and she smiled, because so was he.

**19**

She called him out of habit. Every morning on this day since she was six, she'd talked to him, so why would today be any different?

But it was different;she couldn't help but think as the phone rang, because they weren't together anymore.

He picked up after three rings, his voice as cheery as ever when he answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Stiles," she said a little too brightly, hoping the cheeriness would mask her nerves, "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Lyd," he laughed. Despite the fact that they were no longer dating, he still sounded friendly and happy to hear from her and she mentally slapped herself for thinking it would ever be otherwise. Stiles was still one of her best friends and nothing was going to change that.

Originally, she had ended things because she thought being in a long distance relationship while going to school in separate states would be too difficult. But now that she thought about it, maybe it would have been worth it after all. Stiles always was.

"How are you celebrating?" she asked, pacing back and forth in her bedroom.

"The usual," he said, "The boys have some sort of big party planned. Speaking of which, I gotta go get ready. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright," she sighed, wishing she could say something to make him stay longer because she'd missed the sound of his voice.

"Hey, Lyd?"

"Yeah?" she held her breath.

"Thanks for calling."

"Always," she said as he hung up, because she know no matter what, she'd always call on this day.

**20**

Despite the loud and excited chatter surrounding her, she'd never felt lonelier. She supposed it was her fault that she felt this way. After all, she was the one who wanted to break up.

It was better this way, she kept telling herself. Long distance relationships never worked. They'd tried, for months, but eventually it had ended just as she'd predicted.

They got tired of constantly missing each other's calls and never having time to talk and always having other plans. But despite the fact that she should feel free, all she felt was sad and alone because the truth was, even being with Stiles when they were both miserable and missing each other was better than not being with him at all.

Sighing, she bid her friends goodbye and pulled her coat on as she walked back to her dorm room. It was cold and windy, the dismal weather reflecting her mood.

As much as she respected his decision, she wished things was different. Pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket, she scrolled through her contact list, pausing when his name was highlighted. It took all of her willpower not to press the call button.

"I miss you," she whispered to the name on the screen, wishing for the millionth time that she could one day have the courage to say it to him in person.

**21**

"Hit me," she smiled at the bartender after downing her last vodka shot.

The burly man behind the bar slid another shot glass across the bar top and grins. "Last one, alright? I think you've had enough."

She stuck out her tongue. "Come on! It's my birthday."

He laughed and shook his head. "Fine. One more after this, but that's it."

Grinning triumphantly, she gulped down the new shot and turned to find her friends, who were tucked away in a booth in the back of the crowded bar, only to run smack into someone's chest.

"Lydia?"

She looked up, blinking rapidly to clear her vision, her eyes widening when she finally set sights on Stiles.

"Stiles!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, his embrace feeling like coming home.

"Hey," he laughed, squeezing her into a quick hug before pulling back. "Celebrating, are we? Happy birthday, by the way."

"You remembered!" she exclaimed, gripping his biceps, taut and toned because he'd apparently been working out, to keep her balance. It seemed he'd done a lot of growing up since the last time she saw him. College had instilled a sense of confidence in him that made him look as though he was glowing.

"Of course I remembered," he said, beautiful smile wide and warm as always, "I called you this morning, but you didn't pick up, so I thought I'd come surprise you."

"That's so sweet," she sighed, the alcohol slowly wearing off, being replaced by an entirely new kind of buzz; the kind that being around Stiles always brought out.

He shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You know I'm always here for you."

She nodded as she regained her ability to stand straight. "I know. Thanks for coming."

"Any time," he grinned, "So good birthday so far?"

She tilted her head to the side as she studied him for a moment, getting lost in those dazzling eyes as a slow smile stretched her lips.

"Yeah," she nodded, speaking truthfully, "One of the best."

**22**

"Have you seen my green sweater?" she asked from inside the closet, sorting through the boxes that had yet to be unpacked.

After getting back together, they had decided to take a leap of faith and move in together. She was loving it so far, despite the fact that she no longer knew where anything was.

"Did you check the dryer?" he called out from somewhere else in the apartment.

Rolling her eyes, she padded towards the laundry room, hair wet and wrapped in a large blue towel because she couldn't seem to find any of her clothes.

He was sitting on the couch, playing his newest video game when she walked by and he licked his lips when he saw her attire.

She sent him a sultry wink before digging through the clothes in the dryer and triumphantly pulling out her favorite sweater. Before she could turn to head back to the bedroom, long arms wrapped around her waist and lips attached themselves to her neck.

"What do you need clothes for?" he mumbled against her skin, pressing kisses to her damp bare shoulder between words, "You can just wear this all time."

"Wear nothing?" she laughed, turning in his embrace and locking her arms around his neck, her fingers automatically tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Exactly," he said, his eyes flashing wickedly as he leaned down to kiss her.

Chuckling, she tossed her sweater back on the dryer and melted into his arms. Perhaps clothes were overrated after all.

**23**

She shouldn't be doing this; she promised him she wouldn't, but she couldn't help herself. It was much too enticing. Besides, she had to see what all the fuss was about. Surely, Stiles was overreacting.

Now that he was solidified as a highly sought after private detective, he had his fair share of critics. Critics who prided themselves on picking apart and finding the negative in every aspect of Stiles's life, including the fact that he was currently engaged to his childhood sweetheart. In an effort to protect her, he'd begged she not look herself up online because he was afraid she'd be wounded by the harsh words that could be written.

But of course, she ignored this request and searched herself anyways. Sure enough, she was soon sitting wide eyed in horror as she read through pages and pages of rants calling her vile names, saying she didn't deserve him, and saying he could do so much better.

Finally unable to take it any longer, she shut the laptop and blinked back tears, wondering what she ever did to deserve such awful treatment. He arrived home a few minutes later to find her staring blankly at the wall, crying silently.

"Lydia?" he whispered, kneeling by her side and placing a comforting hand on her knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Stiles," she hiccupped, turning her head to look at him, "I know you told me not to, but I looked."

He understood immediately what she meant and pulled her into his lap on the floor, cradling her in his arms as he pressed soft kisses to her hair.

"It's alright," he hushed her, holding her close, hoping his arms could take away the pain. "I'm sorry that you had to see that."

"I don't understand," she sobbed, turning her face into his chest, "What did I ever do to them?"

"Nothing," he stroked her hair, "You didn't do anything wrong. I promise. They're just jealous because I love you so much."

"I don't understand," she repeated, melting into his body and allowing the gentle strokes of his hand on her hair coupled with the repeated kisses he pressed to her scalp to soothe her.

"All you need to understand," he whispered against her hair, "Is that I'm not going anywhere. No matter what they say, nothing is going to tear us apart."

"You promise?" she said, her eyes closed.

She felt him nod against the top of her head.

"I promise."

**24**

"Perfect," she said to herself as she positioned the picture frame on top of the mantle.

It was her favorite one taken of her wedding day. She was laughing as pieces of cake soared through the air because Scott had tripped and somehow sent the entire cake flying. The picture was by no means professional or posed, but she liked it for exactly that reason. In a completely candid moment, she looked perfectly happy.

"That looks great, babe," he said as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed turning to grin up at him with a secretive smile. "I have a present for you."

"Oh yeah?" he raised his brows excitedly. "Where is it?"

Taking a step back, she held out her arms and gestured to her body. "Find it."

Shooting her a quizzical look, he stepped forward and placed his hands at her hips. She shook her head guiding his hands until they was resting on top of her stomach and smiling widely as realization struck.

"You're…we're…I'm?" he stuttered.

Laughing, she nodded and blinked back tears of joy. "I'm pregnant, Stiles."

"I'm going to be a father?" he said in disbelief.

She nodded as he scooped her into an embrace and pressed multiple kisses to her lips.

"We're going to be a family."

**25**

_It doesn't get better than this,_ she thought as she stared out at the sunset.

Stiles lazily wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she leaned back against the park bench. Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaning down to do the same to the newborn baby in her arms.

"He's perfect," he sighed, stroking his son's cheek softly. "Just like his mother."

Blushing, she turned to gaze into her husband's eyes, once again getting lost in those dazzling pools of chocolate. He kissed her softly on the lips before turning his attention back to the sunset and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It doesn't get any better than this."


End file.
